


Positively Domestic

by GarnetsAndRoses



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Banter, Cooking, Dialogue Heavy, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Friendship, Gen, IRL Fic, No Plot/Plotless, Pancakes, hey vienna if you're reading this, she's so talented i'm really happy to make something for her, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, this is a gift for vienna!, you're so poggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarnetsAndRoses/pseuds/GarnetsAndRoses
Summary: The Sleepy Bois meet up, what else could they want? Well, maybe breakfast, but they might be too busy making fun of each other.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 240
Collections: TWB Valentine's Event [2021]





	Positively Domestic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [since_I_saw_vienna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/since_I_saw_vienna/gifts).



Tommy almost tripped over his own shoelaces as he leaped out of the car, waving a frantic goodbye to his smiling parents.

“See you in a week, Tommy!” called his dad from the driver’s seat.

Nodding, Tommy blurted, “Miss you!” before shutting the door. He grabbed both straps of his backpack in one hand and used the other to drag his suitcase as he ran towards the airport terminal.

Two men were sitting with their luggage on a bench outside of the glass-paned building, and they stood up at the sight of Tommy weaving through the crowd and hopping out of the way of tourists.

Phil walked forward and let the teen fling himself into his arms. “Ey, Tommy, what’s up?”

Wilbur reached around Phil and ruffled Tommy’s hair. “Hey, did you know there’s a term for what you just did? It’s called ‘glomping,’ you know. Popular term from the 2000s—”

“Shut up, you know I know all the words in the dictionary,” snarked Tommy. He ran a hand through his now-frizzy hair and pulled back to look at the three. “If you weren’t so annoying I’d say that I was glad to be hopping on a eight-hour plane ride with you.”

“Okay,” declared Phil, “we have an hour to wander around the airport and buy overpriced salads before the gates close. You planning on getting a nap in?”

Tommy scoffed and adjusted his backpack. “I’ll have you know that I brought all the entertainment that I need.”

“Coloring books?” piped Wilbur, already walking back to the bench.

“Hey!” cried Tommy indignantly as he rushed to catch up to the taller man.

Shaking his head in mock exasperation, Phil followed the two as they tumbled over each other and the stack of luggage.

  * • •



“Techno!” shouted Tommy as he caught a mop of pink hair through the stream of people moving through the airport.

Techno was curled up on a plastic chair, legs wrapped around an oversize suitcase and eyes glued to the book sitting in his lap. His head popped up at Tommy’s voice and he smirked. “Don’t blow my cover!”

Phil and Wilbur trailed after Tommy and the three plopped down on the seats next to Techno.

“Whatcha readin’?” asked Wilbur, leaning over to look at the small print of the book. “It looks awfully like a tome, in my opinion.”

Phil laughed. “Tome? What are you talking about, witchcraft?”

Rolling his eyes, Techno answered, “It’s _War and Peace_ , you plebeians. It’s a gripping mix of literary styles that tells the story of—”

“War and peace, we get it,” interrupted Tommy before laughing at his own joke.

Wilbur gently swatted Tommy on the shoulder. “Don’t scare Techno, you know how he’s afraid to read anything that isn’t agricultural textbooks.”

“I’m _right here_ ,” protested Techno. “I’m going to escape this mockery on the shuttle that you all seem to forget is showing up in only ten minutes.”

“You’re probably right, who knows how long it’ll take to get through this sea of spring-breakers?” Phil stood up, stretching until a couple joints in his lower back popped.

Tommy made a noise of disgust. “Do you need to get that checked out, old man?”

“Listen, _child_ , my creaky joints are none of your business. Worry about your own gangly legs, alright?”

Wilbur hid his grin and looked over at Techno, who snorted before declaring, “I don’t know if I can put up with this bickering for a whole week. Should I get back on that plane?”

“No, no, stay here!” said Tommy. He lunged forward and grabbed Techno’s arm. “We’re finally all in one place and we can— that means we can finally, uh. Uh, make lots of content. And vlogs!”

“To- _mmy_ ,” cooed Wilbur, “Were you going to say something sentimental?”

Groaning, Tommy picked up his backpack to hide his face. “I’m going to start counting every time you use that voice on me.”

“What voice? I don’t know what you mean.”

Phil mused, “Tommy, you call it the Wilbur-Soot-is-a-Big-Brother voice, right? I always thought we should give it a shorter name, though.”

Tommy hummed in agreement, already thinking.

“I’m going to go before I drown in all this sappiness, okay?” suggested Techno. “You people are adorable, but it’s not worth missing the shuttle."

Wilbur covered his grin. “Aw, Techno, you think we’re adorable?”

“I am leaving!”

  * • •



The four stumbled into the hotel room, weighed down by suitcases and backpacks, and Tommy gasped as he realized how large it was.

“Phil, big man, how is there a _hallway_ in a hotel room?” he demanded. “It’s got me feeling all, uh, how d'ya say it? ‘Bougie’?”

Techno snickered and dropped his duffel onto the small dining table. “I mean, did you expect us to stack beds on top of each other?”

Wilbur shrugged, sliding his shoes off. He moved to the different rooms connected to the main one, and announced, “We’re going to have to choose which rooms we want. Can I call one first, since I organized this?”

Phil shook his head vehemently. “Nope, haven’t you ever heard of oldest to youngest?”

“T- that’s weaponized oldness!” protested Tommy.

“Okay, bud, I’m not that old but I’m almost ready to punt you—”

Techno rolled his eyes and nudged Wilbur’s shoulder. The Brit sighed and declared, “Okay, you two, settle down before anyone has a stroke. Let’s just go from oldest to youngest, okay?”

Tommy stuck his tongue out but relented.

Phil pointed at the bedroom that had a window overlooking the boardwalk of the beachside city. “I’ll take that one.” He took a hold of his duffel bag and brought it into the room, while the younger travelers surveyed the remaining two bedrooms and the sofa.

“Y’know, Tommy, I think I’ll let you choose in my stead,” decided Wilbur. “A favor for my favorite hotel-room-family member.”

Sputtering, Tommy waved his arms in front of his face. “Favorite hotel-room-family member? You’ve got to be shitting me, Wilbur, we’re just on vacation together.”

“This is unfair,” deadpanned Techno. “Middle child hindrances.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “You going to choose or not, Toms?”

“The couch,” Tommy declared. “The beds look too skinny for me to stretch out.” At that, he grabbed his luggage from the floor to fling them onto the sofa.

Techno snorted as Wilbur headed towards the medium-sized bedroom, leaving the American with what seemed like the smallest bedroom. He poked his head in and couldn’t help himself from laughing at the sight of a framed painting depicting a pink-toned seaside. “Wilbur, did you seriously stick me in here just because of this painting?”

“And you love me for it!” called Wilbur from across the hallway.

Phil appeared behind Techno, dragging the man’s suitcase by a strap. “Mate, was there a reason why you had to bring this monster of a suitcase?”

“Well, there’s my streaming set-up, and I brought a book or three.” Techno grabbed the luggage and unzipped it. “Look, lots of stuff.”

Phil gasped, appalled at the messily folded and stacked clothes and the pair of boots tossed in, not even stuffed with folded socks to save space. “Who taught you to pack this way?”

“No one taught me to pack, really,” answered Techno.

Shaking his head, Phil sat down and declared, “I have to teach you _something_. Look, let me show you how to roll up your clothes.”

“Okay, but then I’ll go pass out. Jet lag, ya know.”

“That's a good plan, but you know what isn't? This terrible organization!”

  * • •



Techno grumbled to himself as he opened his eyes only to be blinded by morning light from beneath the door to his room. He shifted around before lurching out of bed, accidentally dragging a blanket with him. Making another exasperated noise, the man shook it off and made his way down the short hall into the open space.

“Big man!” Tommy, draped over a chair with a glass of orange juice in hand, leaped up to drag Techno to sit at the kitchen island with him. “You were asleep foreeeeeever. And you might say, ‘oh time-zones blah blah blah’ but I’m too intelligent for that time business. So—”

Wilbur popped up from crouching down and rummaging through the small fridge, already laughing. “Tommy, you can’t just say that you’re too smart for time because you’re the only person who decides to wake up at seven o’clock on the Saturday after an international flight.”

Techno turned to see Phil bustling around the kitchenette and placing down a couple of glass bowls.

“Wilbur, it just sounds like you’re salty that Tommy woke you up first and gave you a heart attack,” teased Phil. “You two can stop bickering and help me make these flapjacks, right?”

“Flapjacks?” asked Techno incredulously. “I didn’t know British people had the same vocabulary as eighteenth-century pirates.”

Tommy snorted, but there was no real disdain to it. “Phil, explain to him what you said to us. It’s your old-people talk, innit?”

“I _swear_ , there’s a difference between flapjacks and pancakes. And we’re making _flapjacks_.”

“No calling Phil old,” insisted Wilbur lightly. “Stop being mean to Dad when there’s flapjacks to make!”

Techno stood up and walked over to Phil to survey the hefty bag of pancake mix. He picked it up and examined the recipe on the back complete with fun illustrations. “We need eggs for this, do we have any?”

Phil smiled and rolled his eyes. “No offense, Techno, but you were out for sixteen hours. We had enough time to find a supermarket and buy some food, including eggs.”

“It’s already ten in the afternoon!” added Tommy helpfully, pointing at the clock hanging by the dining table. The teen downed the rest of his juice and set the cup down before skipping over to Wilbur to help with measuring the ingredients.

Wilbur slid a mixing bowl across the counter and began to crack the eggs into it. “My family made pancakes and bacon every Saturday morning, did you know? No bacon for us, but I would call this scene positively domestic!”

“Eh, the image is a little ruined by how we have to get our stream stuff set up later,” pondered Techno. He toyed with a spatula.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” replied Phil. “This meet-up is for us! The streams and vlog stuff is extra only.” His smile was bright, and the others couldn’t help from grinning back.

Tommy nodded sagely. “Pancakes are more important than pleasing the viewers, I get it! So, do I get to mix? Just don’t give me flipping duty, I hate that—”

“Tommy’s going to be flipping the pancakes!” declared Wilbur, dodging how Tommy tried to swat his shoulder. “He clearly wants to!”

Techno put on a fake British accent to say, “ _I’m_ TommyInnit, and I _hate_ flipping pancakes because I would just burn the hotel down by dropping the pan.”

At that, Phil couldn’t help but break into laughter. He wiped a tear from his eye and remarked, “Please never use that accent again. You sound like you’re becoming your ‘Sir Billiam’ character, but for real.”

“I don’t even sound like that, guys,” protested Tommy. “And I’d never burn down this hotel because of some dumb pancakes! Look at Wilbur, he’s not even that good at cooking!”

Wilbur shook his head and was ready to argue back when Techno announced, “No arguing! All we need to know is that I’m on mixing duty.”

Phil shrugged. “That’s fine, I’m just here to supervise and eat the pancakes when they’re done.” He smirked and hopped back onto the kitchen island to watch.

“I can’t believe the only capable one in this family isn’t helping,” deadpanned Techno.

Wilbur pressed his hands to his face and cooed, “ _Awww_ , Techno said we’re a _family_.”

Tommy barked out a laugh. “Will, at this rate I won’t be able to keep up keeping track of when you use that voice.”

“And that’s the point, innit?” joked Wilbur. He ruffled Tommy’s hair with the hand of his that wasn’t stained with drips of egg whites. “To kill you with kindness.”

“You are such a _sap_ ,” groaned Techno.

Phil couldn’t help but laugh as Wilbur reached to muss Techno’s hair (with his _dirty_ hand) and the American had to scramble out of the way.

Maybe it would take an hour for the pancakes to be made, but the time they spent together was worth the world.

**Author's Note:**

> sbi fluff time!!! it's for my lovely writer's block valentine event partner, vienna, who requested some nice family dynamic stuff (her sbi writing is just so stellar, check it out!) i really hope i captured it, or at least got anybody to smile ^w^
> 
> why not join the writer's block? we have great events like this valentine's day fic exchange or the advent calendar i participated in! lots o' great writers on there, and you can join with the link below :)  
> https://discord.gg/BBAAxQPVbx


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